Purpose
Finding purpose when we're knee-deep in a system
Someone—and I don't remember who—once said: "It could be that your purpose in life is to serve as a warning to others."
Purpose is an elusive liquor we all hope to get smashed on. Purpose gets us up before dawn, caffeinates us throughout the day, and keeps us wide awake late at night. Our friends see we have purpose when we don’t stop telling them what we do. As Paul Graham wrote, "I wouldn't want to work on anything I didn't want to take over my life." I thought purpose is the precursor to this state. Instead, it's discovered, and I've gone in search.
Systems thinking
A couple of weeks ago, a friend and I attended an Interintellect salon hosted by Alex Danco; Entropy and Evolution: An Introduction to Systems Thinking. As Alex explained, the conclusion was paradoxical: The increasingly complex systems around us exist because of growing entropy that eats away at our universe. Entropy is the gradual decline into disorder. It's the rotting that occurs when you leave a banana skin on a compost heap or leave the Conservative’s in power for two terms. However, Alex contrasted the increasing complexity (Apple) and increasing entropy (thermodynamic fact). How can both be true?
A system must have equilibrium when in flux (that is, when energy is moving through it) to exist at all. A system that reaches an equilibrium state is stable because of positive and negative feedback loops. I've previously used the example of a bath (since we can all relate to running a bath, I hope):
A bath is a system. It has an inflow (water from the tap) and an outflow (water out of the plug). The tub itself is a stock (of water). There are two ways to fill a bath up. Most obviously, we could turn the tap. Otherwise, we could constrain the amount of water that leaves via the plug.
When the inputs and outputs are equal [the tap is open, and so is the plug a little bit] the stock is stable [in equilibrium]. No matter where the water level is (nearly full or nearly empty), it maintains its position. If the outflow is increased and the inflow doesn't change, then the stock (water level) will fall.
In the case of the bath, the absence of a plug means the system is in flux. So long as the tap is running an equal amount, the system is in equilibrium. It’s moving while also stable. To extend our analogy, while staying in the bathroom, let's look to the loo.
In the cistern, after being flushed, the water level drops, and the float falls, opening the valve and allowing water back in. This is a feedback loop. As the float lifts with the water that's just entered the cistern, a new feedback loop forms: The float rises as the valve closes. There is a motion (or aliveness) in the system because of the loss of something. If there were no energy leaving the system, it would stop flowing, stagnate and die. The complex systems that we encounter (and exist in) are the same. Beauty blooms because of the energy being sucked out.
The care system
Let's return to seeking purpose. In light of Alex's lecture, I sat down with my notebook and mapped out the system Yokeru operates in: the care sector. How hard can it be? Remarkably, it turns out. Tricky because there are so many different ways to look at the same system. Complex systems, as I saw, can exist in many orientations, and there are innumerable feedback loops. The result was not worth publishing.
According to Donella Meadows, a system consists of three things: elements, interconnections and a purpose. In the care sector, starting at the service user (who is vulnerable), we zoom out to other elements—the family and carers. Zooming out again, we start to see local organisations: the GP practice, a hospital, the bridge club. These are the organisations that the service user interacts with and receives support from. Moving yet further away, we get to the institutions that fund care, such as councils and authorities.
Now we know the elements, we can think about the purpose. The system we've just described exists to support the service user rather than to make money. Elements in the system may be motivated by money, but these are feedback loops. For example, carers withstand low pay up to a point, but eventually, the opportunity cost is too great, and carers will seek other jobs.
So, the purpose of the care system is not to make money (nor is it explicitly to save money). It's more holistic. Adult social care (ASC) is the proviso of local authorities in the UK, and each maps its own purpose. In Derby, the purpose of the ASC system is "to preserve dignity and keep people independent". In Westminster, the purpose is "to help residents stay independent and safe in the community for as long as possible and to improve their well-being". Similar, but not the same, and also multi-directional.
Simon Steven's writes on the purpose of ASC:
I would like to propose that there are two main goals in social care; preventing people from going backwards in their general wellness and supporting people to move forward with their own goals. It is inevitable that financially the first goal of not going backwards will take priority and can be agreed upon in every context. The bottom line is social care is there to prevent people with relevant impairments from physical and emotional neglect that could result in poor health, injury, harm and ultimately death. While this goal is often criticised for not being founded in the realms of compassion and dignity, it is what it is.
I like this straightforward approach, but it's close to being woolly. Today, let's use the following purpose ‘to prevent vulnerable people's health from deteriorating'. It's a little simplistic, but we can place the responsibility for health improvement on the NHS, and that's a different system for another day.
Now that we've mapped out the elements and the purpose, the final part of our story is the interconnections. It's here that we inject dynamism into the system. As we've seen with the bath and the loo, movement is critical to bring our Frankenstein system to life. With interconnections, we have inflows and outflows. The element's become sources and sinks. The care system is complex. Its inflow is public money, which drains through all the elements; to the service user's home, and beyond. There are other factors, too, like winter pressures, carer morale, demographic change, and technology. Broadly, however, money keeps the system in flux.
Changing systems
We now have a map of the care system. With money and energy pouring through it, the elements within the system self-orientate toward the purpose. Not enough carers? Wages increase to pull them to the sector. Average age and vulnerability rise because of demographic change? The government keeps spending per capita stable by injecting more money into the system.
I won't draw the system with its sinks and sources (it feels like a sequel piece). However, the exercise has demonstrated the many constituent parts of a complex system. Critically, we can reorient them to deliver the same purpose.
There are two ways to build a startup. We can either look at the startup as a tool that enables a reinforcing loop of some sort. A tool has a particular use. However, we can also imagine how a layer of technology can restructure an entire system. A neat example is Uber: I was in an Uber yesterday, and the driver said he worked for several taxi companies before the apps arrived (there were many across Nairobi). Now there are no taxi companies, and the drivers have more business. The marketplace that Uber has created is multiples better than the analogue set-up before. The whole system, which aims to get people from A to B, was rebuilt by Uber.
Finding purpose
Having a clear picture of a system, with its purpose, gives context to the participants. After all, big organisations with no apparent purpose are hard to manage and work within. In light of thinking in this way, I am clear on Yokeru's purpose. It's to identify people who need care before their health deteriorates. It might come up with some pithy wording, but that's the gist. If we achieve this, then not only is Yokeru a valuable tool for care delivery, but it will cause a system-wide change. For example, if a carer knew who needed support, they would be more effective at delivering it. In addition, providers could mitigate suffering as fewer people would slip through the adult social care net.
When building a startup, we, too, are making a system (albeit a nested system). We have elements: sales, tech, customer services, and we have a purpose. Money keeps our system moving, yet there are other factors. Founder energy and enthusiasm is one; little happens without them. Likewise, education is another factor, through the exposure to new ideas. Oh, and luck.
On an individual scale, when I think about my purpose, it's to enable our startup ‘system’, which itself will make a more significant system-wide change to the care sector. I'm conscious of self-identifying with work, but it's also identification with a discovered purpose. Again, to repeat Paul Graham: "I wouldn't want to work on anything I didn't want to take over my life." Graham means let's find a purpose that resonates with us. To discover it, it helps to look at the purpose of the system we operate within.
My week in books 📚
This section is back! Why? It forces me to read. This week was Conspiracy by Ryan Holiday, a brilliant book of Peter Thiel’s multi-year conspiracy to destroy the online magazine, Gawker. He succeeded by secretly funding Hulk Hogan’s $115 million lawsuit against the rag, which had published footage of Hogan having sex with Bubba the Love Sponge’s wife. You could not make this shit up. As Holiday says: “We live in a world where only people like Peter Thiel can pull something so intentional and long-term off—and it’s not because, as Gawker has tried to make it seem, he’s rich. It’s because he’s one of the few who believes it can be done”.
Have a great week
-hector